THE SHADOWS ON THE SLOPE.

Sun (Christchurch), Volume IV, Issue 964, 14 March 1917, Page 6

THE SHADOWS ON THE SLOPE.

We watch the shadows creeping on the slope, The sharts of light thro' the broad trees grow dim; So was it last new year; but then bright hope Was here to silver anxious thoughts of him. Now, no hope more; the dreaded thing has come; The slope and trees will darken as our years; The wilderness of Israel is bis home; For us. in age, a childless bouse—and tears. "Survival of the fittest*' —"Glorious war"; "How charming is divine philosophy 1" Where are our fittest? Under the north star, The cross, tbe mound of sand, show where they be. "The struggle for existence"; men kill men, Nor wrestle with bard Nature side by side; Is there no room, then, within human ken, For Turk or Anzac unless one has died? Our Ikivs have given their lives in struggle dire, To purify God's air of falsehoods base— The creeds of pedantry, backed by desire For gain, for glory, dominance of race. Shall not our world be brighter for their deed ? Shall not Peace freelier move among her flowers? Shall there be end to all the cursed en ed That poisons hope and human effort sour.-,? Tli? summit is now covered by the shades. The darkness spreads its wings across the sky; A silence as of deep despair pervades The land and sea and air and welkin high. But 10l the moon comes blessing all the bay. Beaming with light that never was her own; The founts of light still live, tho' far away, The boon of light still moves Trom rone to zone. Bright benison for Earth from the dead moon, Bright benison for Earth from our boyt slain; They died— for crown of victory too soon, For crown of duty done died not in vain. What tho' we elders live to victory? We shall not learn the will inscrutable. The Eternal's purpose for humanity More than our boys who nobly wrought and fell. A few brief years of a loved presence lost. Keen mourning for the nation's best of breed; What is the offset to the dreadful cost Of Rachel's moans in Raniah for her seedt The pain is of the living, not the dead; The gain is to the world, the common soul; They still have share in it—our boys who shed Heroic fragrance when they paid the toll. —"LEADER."